


All I Learned About Politics I Learned From Rabbits

by claro



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26450482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claro/pseuds/claro
Summary: When Mycroft loses his home, and more importantly his library, to fire, Detective Inspector Lestrade turns up with an unexpected gift.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 6
Kudos: 143





	All I Learned About Politics I Learned From Rabbits

'I am sorry, brother mine.' 

Sherlock's voice washed over Mycroft as he watched, for the second time in his life, his home burn to the ground. He barely felt the grip on his shoulder that came from his brother, long fingers curling into the wool of Mycroft's coat, whether to stabilise him or Sherlock he didn't know. And didn't care.

It was gone.

Three fire engines, eighteen firefighters, fifty first respondents from MI5 and 6, a whole MET division and still none of them could do anything except watch it burn.

An assistant pressed a sheaf of papers into his hands, 'The insurance will cover it, and MI-'

It was Sherlock;s snarl that drove them away.

And all the while Mycroft stood silent, immovable, on the road outside, watching everything he owned burn.

#

Sherlock surveyed his brother carefully.

'You aren't upset about the house.'

Mycroft made a strange noise somewhere between a huff and a sigh.

'There were many antiques of significant value-'

'Which you've never cared about. You don't even use coasters!.' Sherlock steepled his fingers under his chin, 'So you clearly aren't worried about the loss of some four hundred year old sideboards. So what is it you really....oh!'

#

'I know it might be beyond your capabilities but if you could stop being a dick for one minute that would be great!' Lestrade roared seconds before he had four uniforms escort John and Sherlock out of his office.

#

Mycroft Holmes spent three weeks in a secure location before his new residence was ready. In that time two books arrived, in the same parcel, on his desk. The first was a journal of handwritten notes about beekeeping, in his brother's scrawly handwriting. The second was The Art of War, which Mycroft attributed to Dr Watson.

He was still contemplating these in his office when there was a firm knock and Detective Inspector Lestrade walked in without an invite.

Mycroft's chest clenched and his stomach did that same thing it did everytime he was in the presence of the other man.

'Detective Inspector to what do I -'

In an instant the easy going policeman looked uncomfortable and unsure of himself.

'I..uh...' he took a deep breath, 'I know you lost all your books.'

Mycroft closed his eyes, the pain still raw.

'Rebuilding a library must be....I don't even know....but...welll....' there was the sound of something set down, very gently, on Mycroft's desk, ''All library's start with one one, right?'

Mycroft opened his eyes and looked at the book on his desk.

'Watership Down?'

The policeman in front of him shrugged, 'All I Learned About Politics I Learned From Rabbits.' then he shrugged again and was gone.

#

Four years later, in a new townhouse, with a new library, Greg Lestrade surveyed the shelves, despondent.

'Darling?'

He couldn't bring himself to face Mycroft just yet.

'Did you throw it away?'

'Throw away what?' Mycroft asked as he got ready for his day.

'The book.'

'What book?'

Greg stilled the disappointment,after all so much had happened since that day, the ring on his finger was enough to prove that. 'Does't matter.'

Mycroft had, since that fire, and in the years they had been together, rebuilt his library. Greg had always scanned the shelved for his own paltry contribution and found it lacking. Even so, it didn't stop him looking.

A hand touched his wrist and forced him to turn around, on the table between them was his husbands open briefcase, and right next to the manila folders stamped confidential was a well worn, slightly battered paperback.

Mycroft leaned forward and kissed Greg;s cheek, 'All I Learned About Politics I Learned From Rabbits.'


End file.
